3 posts tagged with “White Meadows Farms”

  • My favourite local food finds of 2013

    Something about this time of year that makes me reflect.

    Or maybe I’ve spent too long in newsrooms and like a reflex reaction — or bad habit — I feel compelled to compile a list of some sort to sum up the year that was.

    In an effort to satisfy either need, I present you with my five favourite local food finds of the year. These are locally made products or Niagara- grown foods that I enjoyed for the first time this year and they have fast become favourites.

    The stuff of cravings, pregnant or not. Items to which I’ve given precious permanent shelf space in my pantry and always seem to have room for in my belly.

    I share them with the hope you’ll give them a try and find yet another Niagara great.
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    Category Food Finds


  • Peach Tree
  • Wild Food Wednesday: Call me Al

    He was deft in the brokering of his deal with me.

    About a year into our marriage, my husband skillfully put forth a clever proposal that has remained in tact in the three years since. It came after he languished in the hot sun on the edge of a Niagara vineyard while I spent an hour wrestling wild garlic from the grips of some very hard, very dry earth.<br /><br />
    With each bulb I lost to the rock solid grasp holding it in place, and each groan of disappointment from me after trying so hard to harvest a few tiny bulbs, I could see I was losing him.<br /><br />
    He grew evermore engrossed in his BlackBerry. His pleas to go to the grocery store to buy garlic instead grew more frequent as my first foray into foraging waned and my frustration waxed. <br /><br />
    Until then, we had done pretty much everything together with a smile. But on this day, we realized we had rather different interests. Still, I was oblivious to it as I climbed back into the car with a small handful of aromatic rhizomes yanked from the caked, concrete-like dirt.
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    Category In the Wild


  • Peach Tree
  • August in March

    I pondered for days what I would wear to brunch on Sunday.
    Months ago, I looked at a menu for August, a restaurant in Beamsville that’s a partnership between a local chef and gardener, after a friend recommended having late Sunday breakfast there.
    In an instant, I knew I would order the blueberry pancakes. But looking at the menu, I also instantly knew this was fine food. And fine food usually comes coupled with a fine setting and fine diners. That had me hearing the tune ‘Which one of these is not like the others’ as I wondered if I could get away with wearing jeans to brunch, even if they were a trouser cut with a dark wash.
    We finally booked a table at August for this past Sunday at 10 a.m. Trouser jeans it was because at that hour on a Sunday morning, I’m all about comfort.
    Turns out, so is August. Once home to a divey roadhouse on the edge of Beamsville, August’s digs are definitely more upscale than the previous incarnation. But as soon as you step inside, you’re greeted by a clean, warm yet sparse decor — comfortable like a pair of trouser jeans.
    There isn’t a trace of pretense anywhere in August. Simple metal arch-backed chairs. Tables sans table cloths. Mason jars of dried goods on the counter near the entrance. Muted colours on the walls. The interior is as down-to-earth as the concept of a restaurant that has an in-house gardener growing the veggies it serves. The setting also reflected the menu of simple, uncomplicated local ingredients combined to make delicious meals.
    My blueberry pancakes were served with White Meadows Farms maple syrup. There were offerings of ham from The Good Shepherd, a local abattoir, house-made sausage, house smoked salmon, and crepes with homemade preserves.

    My pancakes were good — they were also huge — but they weren’t rave-worthy like the meal of my fellow bruncher, Sonia, who had Amy’s baked eggs with aged Cheddar and cream. She described it as a heart attack on a plate as she sopped up the eggy, cheesy, creamy goodness with her thick slices of toast. From my vantage point, it was the kind of heart attack that would cause you to at least keel over with a giant, satisfied smile.

    My other brunch companion, Monique, had the omelet feature of the day — spinach, brie and bacon — with breakfast potatoes and a heaping side of salad dressed with a roasted onion vinaigrette. It certainly had a healthier air than Sonia’s meal, but looked just as delicious.

    Just as impressive was the bill. Think greasy spoon-like prices without the greasy spoon. My three whopping pancakes and local syrup washed down with a large glass of OJ came to just over $10 with tax.

    The omelet rings in at $8 and the swoon-worthy cardiac arrest-inducing baked eggs are $10.

    And the jean trousers? Apropos for one the most comfortable restaurants I’ve been to in a while.August Restaurant on Urbanspoon

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